Listening to the woman’s question, Justin Battleson let out a bitter smile, his gaze falling. The cold wind mercilessly brushed past his cheek. Charlotte Thompson heard him speak softly.
"Don’t you understand?" His gaze fixed on her, seeming as if he wanted to burn a hole right through her. His voice was hoarse, resonating with an unnameable desolation and loneliness.
"Charlotte, the children are my own flesh and blood. Without you all, my life can never be complete."
"Even if I were to leave this place now, I would still feel as if my entanglements remain here."
After hearing his confession, Charlotte’s body stiffened slightly, her pupils dilating.
Justin’s knuckles brushed over his lips. His bloodshot eyes seemed both profound and tired.
Charlotte’s ears buzzed. She opened her mouth, uncertain of how to respond. Her mind was blank, constantly reminding her of one thing.
The children were not just hers alone.
They had a father, and that father stood before Charlotte now.
An indescribable shock surged within her heart. Charlotte took two steps back, a complicated emotion flashed in her eyes.
She looked up at Justin, hesitated, then finally asked.
"Is that really how you feel?"
A glimmer of hope ignited within Justin as he looked at her, his voice intensified: "Trust me once." New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on noⅴelfire.net
Charlotte mulled over his words in her mind, sighing regretfully in the end.
Looking at the lights in the apartment, standing here, she could vaguely hear Grace Thompson’s cheers and Jordan Thompson’s somewhat helpless voice.
Everything seemed warm and beautiful; yet Charlotte could not imagine what living in a complete family would be like for the children.
Seeing the struggle in her eyes, Justin hesitated, his lips parted. He was about to speak.
But before he could say anything, the piercing sound of a phone call tore through the quiet air.
Charlotte startled, quickly pulled out her vibrating and ringing phone from the bag. Glancing at the caller ID, she paused.
She pressed her lips together, her eyes filled with confusion.
It was a call from Henry Hudson...
But she had just left his place, if anything important was to be said it should’ve been done so then. Why would he choose to phone her now?
With her mind brimming with mixed feelings, Charlotte closed her eyes, swiping to answer the call. She responded tentatively.
On the other side, hearing her slightly doubtful voice, Henry lowered his gaze, a soft smile tugging the corners of his lips, "Are you home yet?"
"Yes." Charlotte glanced at Justin before looking away. "Jordan took the kids upstairs to wash up. I’m just catching some fresh air."
Hearing this, the smile on Henry’s lips did not fade. He stood up from the couch, the TV was still playing an episode of the drama leftover by Jordan.
A freshly stubbed-out cigarette sat in the ashtray. A faint smell of tobacco wafted through the room, a slight hint of smoke lingering.
Henry walked to the large floor-to-ceiling window. He pulled open the curtains.
In an instant, captivating and profound nighttime scenery appeared. He released the curtains, pulling over a chair to sit down.
On the other end, Charlotte heard the rustling noise from his side, the confused look in her eyes didn’t fade.
At that, Henry chuckled softly. "Charlotte, look up."
As his words fell, Charlotte froze for a few seconds, then obeyed.